I was sitting out on the veranda in the evening watching the leaves on the cassia nodosa tree hug each other in the cool billowing wind, when I heard it at first. A soft rumble in the sky, followed by the sharp clap of lightning, and the grumble of a giant in the sky. The monsoon season was here, and with itself it brought promises of flooding, leaking roofs and late nights spent on the same veranda watching the clouds fly past in layers. It looked the way I imagined the sea too look, layers of water and waves, each making way for the next, overlapping here, and leaving potholes there.

It had been a week since my conversation with Dadi Jee, and I still hadn't told Amma about it, since she was busy with work. She juggled two jobs while running art classes from her studio. She was an educator by profession, and an artist at heart - an underrated one in my opinion. That didn't stop her though, she still painted when she felt like it, and made installations at home and anywhere should could. She came outside while my mind was preoccupied with the clouds and the waves, her ear pressed to her phone.

"Yes Mummy, I know.", Amma was talking to Nano, who called her every day. Sometimes the conversation was about Bari Nano, Nano's older sister, who loved to cook and try new recipes. She guarded her own recipes like a lioness – you couldn't get them if she didn't want you to have them. She would visit at times and bring with her at least six or seven tupperware containers, all holding delicious curries, rice, lentils and meats, with at least two types of salads accompanied by at least 3 types of sauces, chutneys and other condiments. Other times, the conversation would be about Ammo Jee, who was Nano's Maternal Aunt, or it would be about Khala, Amma's Sister, whom Ammo Jee lived with.

"I don't know what you want me to say, we did all that we could. It's not your fault, nor is it mine, or anyone else's for that matter... whatever happened, happened the way it was meant to, neither of us can do anything about what was pre-ordained, you now that...alright, I'll talk to you later. Take care, Khuda Hafiz."

I had no idea what they were talking about. Recently for the past month and a half I had been overhearing similar conversations between them, without knowing what it was about. When I asked Amma Jee, she would always wave it off and change the topic, which is what happened now, when she changed the topic to ask me what time the boys had left today. Farhan got the car for the day, so he decided to pick Izar up along the way, and come spend the day with me at my house. We had sat on the topmost roof, and talked like we always did, while Billy Joel, Arctic Monkeys, Santana and J. Cole took turns pouring out of the speaker of Farhan's phone.

"They left around an hour ago, Amma", I said.

"Wow, everything alright? They never leave that early – hell they stay as late as they can usually.", she asked, astounded. It was true, whenever they visited, they stayed for as long as they could without either of us getting into trouble.

"Yes, everything's fine Amma Jee," I laughed, "Farhan had to go home early because his cousins are coming tonight, and they'll be staying for a while so he decided to meet Izar and I before he got busy for too long."

"Okay then, good."

I didn't say anything after that, and neither did she for a while. If I wasn't too preoccupied watching the branches sway in the cool night air and the clouds turning darker and pregnant with rain, I would've noticed that she was watching me, with thoughtful eyes.

"What's wrong Gaitiara? What's on your mind?"

"Nothing Amma Jee, I'm just tired. Dadi very clearly told me to cut ties with my guy friends recently, saying that having so many male 'acquaintances' wasn't something that's expected of girls that belong to 'good' families."

She sighed and was about to say something when I spoke up again, my voice in the middle of a whisper and a shout, "and as always, the conversation ended up at the topic of marriage again, and I'm honestly tired of that being the case. It's as if there's nothing more important than getting me married."

"Well Gaitiara, you know you'll have to get married eventually. And you know she's been waiting for that day since the day you were born."

"There are so many people older than me, why doesn't she focus on marrying them off? There's Saleem Bhai and Mehar Aapa and Muskaan Aapa – hell even Rahim is a year older than me. Why not either of them? Why me?"

"I don't know, Gaitiara, I don't know. For now, don't pay attention to it, alright? Focus on your studies. When the time comes, we'll see what to do about it then."

With that said, Amma Jee got up and went inside. I sat there in that same spot on the veranda watching the rain plummet towards to ground, with my attempts at letting my family know that I didn't want to get married. Not in four years, after my undergraduate studies, not in six years after my masters. Not ever. And even if I did see myself getting married, it would be after a long time, nowhere in the near future, not even in a decade. Those attempts however, remained unuttered inside my mouth, where they stuck to the palate like bubble gum that I would have to take a drill to – not even a scalpel would do.

That night as I lay awake staring at the pictures I had put on my wall, with my mind stuck in the happenings of the past six months, my phone vibrated. Aahed had sent me a message asking if I wanted to go with him and a few other friends to get our documents made for university admissions in the morning. I sent him a quick text saying that I'd tell him early morning, since I would have to ask Baba.

The next morning, and the weeks that followed were spent in preparations, and collecting the necessary documents that were required. We went to Cantt Kacheri and got affidavits made with Aahed and Izar flanking me like bodyguards, We went to banks to pay the registration and processing fee, and the IBCC office on Queen's Road to get equivalences made, and after each trip we ended up at Aahed's house, with the boys playing tekken and with me passed out on the bed. We even ended up at a photo studio to get our passport size pictures taken for the forms at the last minute.

Not much happened in those weeks, apart from the thing with Shahveer, who had called me one day as I was in the car with the boys, running errands. It was a hot June afternoon and we were stuck in traffic on Mall road, trying to get back home. We had just spotted a Hico Ice cream hawker across the heated tarmac and through the fumes that were being exhaled exhaust pipes of cars, motorcycles, and pickups, and I was convincing Izar to walk there and buy us some ice lollies when my phone rang. At first, I didn't know if I should pick up, and Izar offered to answer it for me. I realized that if I didn't answer now, he would show up at my house whenever he got the chance to, so with a worried sigh and my lips between my teeth, I picked up.

"Gaitiara? Hello?", he said. I hadn't heard his voice since the night of the farewell, and when I did it just made me want to cry because I had missed it.

"Hey. Why did you call? Is everything alright?"

"How could you?" he said on the other side. I could hear the strain in his voice, from trying to remain calm.

"...What?" I was genuinely confused; I had no idea what he meant.

"Don't act like you don't know, you were at Aahed's house yesterday, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I really don't, Shahveer. What's going on?", I said. So many people were over at Aahed's house yesterday, I really had no idea where this was going. Yesterday, after we went back to Aaheds house after running errands, other friends of ours had joined us, and all of us had turned the lights down, settled on the carpet at the foot of his bed in front of the television, and decided to watch a horror movie.

"What's going on, is that you were sitting with that asshole Izar, and his arm was around you." He said, and time all the restraint was gone, like a rubber band that had snapped, and like the vibrations that followed, I could hear his words even after he had finished saying them.

"How do you know his arm was around me?" I said, worried. At this point Izar and Aahed turned around to look at me, concern plastered on their faces, because my voice was barely above a whisper. I couldn't understand how Shahveer had found out. Did someone tell him? Who would've told him? Everyone who was there yesterday knew how delicate the situation with Shahveer was and what I had gone through.

"So, you wot even deny it? Wow, you have changed.", he said with a chuckle, and I could tell that he found nothing funny.

"How do you know? Who told you?"

"That's not important. What's important is that person took a picture, and sent it to me – I don't know why they did that. Maybe they wanted to piss me off or wanted to get under my skin, but whatever the reason was, they sent it to me. I told you to tell your friends to stop sending me that bullshit. I don't want to see what you do with them, - whatever you do with them, or with anyone."

"I don't know why they sent it to you. And I also don't know why you're so upset about it. You sat with your arm around my shoulder so many times.", I said, and I regretted it the minute I said it.

Shahveer and I used to be very close until a few months ago. He was one of the people who I thought I would know and be friends with for my whole life. Little did I know that he wanted to be more than friends. When he told me, and I told him how it was something I never saw happening, not even if I wanted it to, because I couldn't – I just couldn't bring myself to. I couldn't even tell him why I couldn't bring myself to, other than saying that I couldn't trust anyone that much. I didn't tell him that I couldn't open myself up for someone, and trust them with the entirety of myself, only to be hurt by them. I didn't tell him that the thought of that kind of relationships sacred me. I didn't tell him that I thought I wasn't worth it.

He was understanding at first, but then he started to get clingy and possessive. He would get upset if I spent more time with people other than with him. He would get upset if someone close to me other than him put their arm around me – even if there was nothing weird about it, like yesterday with Izar. Shahveer wouldn't care if I told him the truth, about what actually happened. He wouldn't care if I was feeling cold and nauseous and Izar had put his arm around me so I could rest my head on his shoulder, because someone else was hogging all the pillows. He didn't care that Izar and I were like siblings, no matter how many times I had tried to make him understand. And that was what was happening again. After all the fights, and the drama, and kicking him out of my house at 10:00 PM on the night before the farewell, and him ignoring my existence since then; after everything, I was back smack dab in the center of it.

"I'm surprised you remember that honestly, since now you're so busy with your new friends. There just using you, you know. What if the person who sent this to me had sent it to your sister? Or better yet, to your mother or father or Dadi? That would be fun don't you think? Maybe I should show it to them. Maybe I'll even show it to Izars parents."

"Shahveer what do you mean? You now it's entirely platonic. How could you say something like that? How could you assume anything else, especially since ive been trying to explain that to you since the beginning? And how could you assume that my parents wouldn't know about it already? How could you think that they don't know I'm that close with some of my friends? I was with you, and they knew it then as well. And secondly, why are you bringing Izar's family into this?"

"Whatever. I might show it to them, I might not. I just wanted you to know that I still care about you and that those people you think are your friends don't give a shit."

"Don't you dare. You have no right, not after what you've put me through, and what you're digging up again.", I said. By this point, my voice had started to turn stoic, and the tears I was trying to hold back were threatening to fall out and run down my face. Izar was turned around to face me, and kept asking for the phone. his face and the smile that was there usually had started to harden into a straight line, and Aaheds brow was furrowed, because his eyes were on the road as the traffic inched forwards slowly, watching for beggars and stray dogs milling about between the vehicles , but his mind and ears were towards the words coming out of my mouth.

Shaveer was quiet for a second, and then said, "I still care about you, Gaitiara. Don't make me do this. Trust me."

Then he cut the call.

His voice was soft when he said that, like it used to be when he talked to me about his favorite bands, or his mother and how she took care of him, and how his sister kept getting on his nerves but never made him love her less. It made me yearn to go back in time and fix it before it all got so bad, so that I could still hear this voice of his without feeling guilty, without feeling terrible and sad. Without knowing that I would have to be rude to him, to yell at him if I wanted him to ever understand.

Aahed parked his car on the side of the road in front of a grocery store, the traffic had finally returned to normal, or what could be said was normal for Mall Road. Him and Izar turned around and looked at me asking with their eyes, their faces furious and concerned all at the same time.

I told them to drop me home, and then I proceeded to tell them everything on the way. Trying to hold back the tsunami that was threatening to break loose, and with one look at my face, they could tell that was the case. Aahed asked me thrice, if I wanted him or them to talk to Shahveer, to make him understand. I told him that it wouldn't do nothing except make matters worse. I asked him not to, but Izar kept saying that he was going to have words with Shahveer regardless of me asking them not to. Izar's fists were clenched in his lap, and Aaheds ears were slowly turning red.

I couldn't help but feel like there was something else, something I didn't know about. Why had Shahveer reacted so aggressively to Izar having his arm around my shoulders? Who had sent him that picture, and why? And why did he want to go to Izars family? It felt like there was some other reason, because even when we reached my house, and I got out of the car, after Aahed got out to give me a hug and open the gate for me – even then when I looked at Izar, he was angry. He was angry and I could tell that there was something else, something I didn't know about.

After I went inside, I greeted my family, and pet the three dogs sitting outside the kitchen. I passed by Nur who was reading a famous five novel, and Neea who was talking to her friend on the phone. I went to the washroom, and closed the door behind me. I walked over to the one solid wall, uninterrupted by objects and mirrors and shelves, and leaned against it, feeling the cool tiles beneath my bare feet as I sank to my haunches and finally cried. 

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footnotes:

nano - maternal grandmother

Khala - maternal aunt

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